Not Quite Dead
by kamikaze-djali
Summary: This is the sequel to "Hell in Paris," set one year after the first story ends. Bodies are being found in the streets of Paris, stripped of all flesh. Hellboy and Kate Corrigan are on a mission to end the killings. A reluctant Quasimodo is brought along, as only an immortal may kill another immortal.
1. The Assignment

The Assignment

_Castle of Three Rivers, France. April, __1337_

A fire blazed in the large room, filling it with shadows that danced with the flames. Figures lined the stone walls, encircling the large bed and mound of blankets. A man sat on the edge of the bed, the shadow of his crown forming long fingers on the wall. A lone candle at the bedside, encircled by a golden crown, crested with a single ruby. The candles dim light cut through the shadows, revealing the sunken eyes of the lady who lay waiting to die.

Queen Elise shivered under her thick covers. Near her side, her husband waited, powerless to help the one he loved more than anything. The blackness had covered his beloved Elise, hiding her once beautiful features. Elise had withered to a mere skeleton. The open sores on her body oozed liquid that soaked into the silk and velvet that covered her. The smell had driven all but King Roux away.

All of the knowledge he had, as a great wizard, was too little to save her. He lifted his gloved hand, stroking her wispy blonde hair, her sallow cheek and her wasted bosom. His hand rested on her ruby necklace. The necklace he had given her on their wedding day. Through the cold metal, he felt as her last breath escaped.

Roux pulled his hand away, burying his face into both hands. Tears flowed down his face, his tears mixing with the crusts and stench that had oozed from his beloved wife.

Queen Elise was once the envy of every young woman in the kingdom. She was beautiful, intelligent and, while not of royal blood, had been blessed with a fairy godmother. The fairy godmother, sworn enemy of the wizard guild. He had loved her anyway, so deeply. In the end, they had both loved her as deeply. Both had also been powerless to save her from the black death that stole her away.

Suddenly, Roux heard the screaming of their young son. He looked at his gloves and the death that soaked them.

"What have I done? Roux removed his gloves and cursed to himself. Who would raise the boy?

Roux, in a panic, plucked the ruby necklace from Elises' frail neck. He could not leave his son, his only heir, alone. He could not leave his kingdom without a ruler. Not now. It would only be for a while, until his son was of age.

As Roux rushed to his study, the words of his master echoed into his thoughts.

"Those not born into immortality will surely go mad."

* * *

_Lake Athabasca, Saskatchewan, Canada. October 17 1999_

Abe Sapien choked and gasped as he emerged from the chilling water, a bloody harpoon in his hand. Hellboy grasped his hand and lifted him up the small embankment. Abe lunged forward, rolling onto his back and away from the waters' edge, leaving the harpoon facing upward.

Hellboy cocked his gun and walked toward the clay bank that stood between him and the lake.

"There are two more, Red." Abe lowered the spear to chest-height. Hellboy turned to the water.

A single water logged woman pulled herself to the shoreline. Her eyes were long gone, now mere holes filled with zebra mussels and algae. The creatures mouth opened, letting out a gurgling scream. It lunged toward the embankment as Hellboy placed two shots into its decaying body.

"Is that all you've got?" The creature writhed and squirmed until a third shot to the head splattered the skull into the mud and gravel at the waters edge. Hellboy lit a cigar and turned towards Abe.

"Told you it would be a piece of cake. Let's go, Fishface."

Abe stood and readied the harpoon as Hellboy turned to face him. "There is one more."

Abe and Hellboy peered toward the water to see what was once a child dragging itself to the shoreline. The "hello kitty" pajamas were stained green-black with lake muck.

"A child."

"A monster." Hellboy pointed his gun at the decaying head and pale blue flesh.

The zombie child quivered as the harpoon entered the skull, tacking it into the shoreline.

Hellboy unloaded his gun and looked around at the mess him and Abe had created.

A small float plane appeared in the distance, as if on cue.

"Cleanup will have fun with this one." Hellboy tossed the butt of his cigar onto the ground, crushing it with his hoof into the mix of mud, water and zombie flesh. They walked toward the dock.

Abe looked down at his uniform, which was torn and saturated with bits of rotting flesh. He hovered his hand over the zippers and velcro fastenings, not sure how to remove it without getting more of the rotting skin on him.

Moments later, both Hellboy and Abe rested in the small float plane, much drier and somewhat cleaner.

Kate Corrigan handed Abe Sapien his next assignment. Abe and Johan would be traveling to Chile.

Hellboy groaned as he was given his next assignment. Kate smiled.

"We're going on this one together, Red. There are reports of skeletons showing up in the streets, stripped of all flesh."

"India, again?" Hellboy opened the folder and flipped through the pages. Photos of dogs and scantily clad women, with all traces of flesh missing, tumbled out of the folder and onto his lap. After reading the first line, it made sense to him.

"Isle de la Cite, Paris, France."

* * *

_Author note: King Roux is loosely based off of the french folk take "The Wizard King." Queen Elise has died of plague.  
_


	2. The Reunion

_Paris, France, October 18, 1999_

Hellboy and Dr. Corrigan arrived in Paris well before dawn. They had loaded their gear into what appeared to be a courier van. Their driver carefully manoeuvred their truck beneath the Hotel Dieu.

Hellboy, stood in the back of the truck, loading his belt and clips with ammunition. A box filled with various relics and charms lay open, his fingers picking through them. He placed a handful into his coat pocket. Bruttenholms rosary dangled from his left wrist, the small iron cross bouncing off of his hand as he loaded his gun.

"Catacombs or Notre Dame?"

"I need to deliver these, first." Dr. Corrigan grasped the handles of three large tote bags, all brimming with papers and books. "Besides, he did initiate the call."

Hellboy flipped through a tray of sealed vials. He scooped the holy water into his pocket.

"Just one more thing." Kate slid the back door of the van open and watched as Hellboy closed the last of the drawers.

Hellboy tilted the entire box of sealed vials into his other coat pocket as he let out a low rumbling sigh. He lifted the bags with his right hand and set them over his shoulder. "You sure there is nothing else?"

The driver, having disappeared, returned with coffee and cookies in-hand. Kate took the tray and bags and smiled. "Ready. Let's do this."

Hellboy reached out for a coffee cup as Kate pulled the tray out of his reach. Hellboy closed the truck door and locked it.

"An atheist shouldn't be so eager to attend church."

* * *

As the odd pair made the short walk to Notre Dame, their reason for being there was readily apparent. Two officials were scooping up the carcass of a dog under guidance of headlights. The fur remained on the bones and nothing more. Not a single drop of blood stained the cobbles upon which it lay. Hellboy watched as clumps of dog fur blew off of the dried bones.

"Crap. Whatever it is, it drains them dry."

Stray dogs walked through the streets, keeping their distance from the police, as well as the two BPRD agents. Hellboy watched a red dog as it ran off with a dead rat, the other stray dogs scattering as it ran toward the river.

The doors were locked, barring entry to the cathedral. Hellboy grasped the wrought handle of the door. Kate jiggled a key, which caused the lock on the portal of St Anne to yield. Hellboy pushed the door open with his left hand.

"That's against fire code." He commented, as the stale air of the cathedral hit his nose.

Kate gently closed the door, leaning against it. It thudded shut, sending a faint echo through the belly of the church. She turned to face into the nave, scanning the darkness for another soul. Only a few candles flickered near the altar.

Hellboy adjusted the bags on his shoulder and snatched a coffee from the tray in Kates hand. There was no use in letting the coffee get cold.

Dr. Corrigan turned toward the spiral staircase toward the tower. Hellboy walked into the darkness toward the altar, sipping his coffee loudly.

"Katie. This way."

Hellboys hooves echoed off the marble floor, his trench coat flapping noisily with his determined walk. Kate ran up behind him as silently as she could, trying not to spill the coffee.

"What are you doing?"

"This is why we came here first." Hellboy kept walking, as noisily as possible. "It's easy to sneak up on a deaf man."

Hellboy plopped the bags down a few meters behind the bell ringer, who was kneeling in prayer. She struggled to see his familiar shape in the dim candlelight.

Hellboy stood silent, his eyes closed as he held the cross of Bruttenholms rosary in his palm. Within a moment, he looked at Kate, then Quasimodo. Hellboy pulled a cookie out of the bag, placing it between his lips. He folded the bags tab into a small dart.

Quasimodo rose to his feet, only to be struck on the shoulder. He turned sharply, his one good eye flashing angrily in the candlelight. As he recognized Kate and Hellboy, his expression softened and he smiled.

"I knew you would come back." Quasimodo limped toward his visitors, Kate opened her arms to him, motioning for him to accept a hug.

"It's so good to see you again." Kate told him, smiling. She held him at a distance for a few moments, taking the time to look into his blue-green eyes. Once he smiled, she felt herself leaning forward, accepting his arms around her.

"I've missed you too." He stepped back. " Much has changed in the past year."

Hellboy knocked him lightly on the shoulder, offering the open bag of cookies from his large, stone right hand. Quasimodo locked his gaze into Hellboys' eyes. He parted his lips slightly as if to speak, then looked at the bag. He gently tugged out a cookie.

* * *

"I've been looking forward to seeing you again. Sadly we're not just here to visit." Kate set the rest of the cookies on the table, while waiting for Hellboy. "What happened in here? It feels different."

"The bells are run by motors, now. The clergy have been told by the engineers that the 'structural integrity' of Notre Dame is under threat when they ring. The ropes have been removed."

Quasimodo set down his warm coffee. Kate looked up, only to see that the bells indeed hung naked above her head. Not a single rope adorned the belltower. Quasimodo gestured upward, his hands cutting through the air sharply, almost prayer-like, as he looked up at the shiny new bells. His back straightened somewhat and he appeared taller. While his voice did not raise, his words became pointed.

"There are chimes as well, hammers on motors that ring the bells. There is no joy in the bells anymore - these are not even my beloved bells. These are dead, cold. The songs are mechanical, lifeless and always the same."

"I'm sorry." Kate reached out, touching Quasimodos arm. He looked blankly at the table, the cookie crumbs. His shoulders slumped, his eyes softened, as if ready to form tears. He looked into Kates eyes.

"My beauties are gone, I've been told they are in storage. Even the oldest, Emmanuel. No one has told me where they are, I fear they have been melted down."

"Hellboy and I will see if we can find where they are being kept."

"I would like that."

Kate and Quasimodo sat quietly, studying the many coffee stains on the table. Hellboy plopped three bags between them, breaking the silence.

"We brought you these to help with our little problem. That, and while we were stopping by anyhow, Katie figured your library could use an update." Papers and small books tumbled out of the bags. Hellboy snatched up the last cookie.

* * *

Thanks for reading. Please leave reviews of some sort.


	3. A Search

**A Search**

"Thirty people, mostly prostitutes, and too many dogs to count." Hellboy crumpled his coffee cup. "It wasn't here a year ago, either. Did you see any of it, Quasi?"

"Only shadows. There are bones outside the door, yet it will not enter Notre Dame." Quasimodo ran his hands over the books on his shelves. "The doors remain unlocked at night, anyone could could walk in. No one seems have escaped, from whatever it is, once they are caught."

"It's not a zombie, the killings are too regular and they haven't expanded." Dr. Corrigan flipped through some of the photographs. "Whatever it is, it seems somewhat intelligent and has a taste for fresh meat. There isn't even a bit of tendon remaining; the bones are cleaned completely. It could be many things, jikininki, blemmyes, lich, wendigo, draugr..."

"Whatever it is, it's hungry, ancient and probably in the catacombs."Hellboy patted his gun. "Let's go say 'hi' to whatever it is."

Kate stood behind the table, an old book in her arms. Crude markers of ribbons and strips of old cloth hung out of it. Quasimodo placed two well-marked books on the table before Kate.

"We should at least have some idea what it is before we go." Kate opened one of the old books. "Besides, it just fed and will be in hiding."

"Basilisk venom is all we'll need."

"What makes you so sure?" Kate asked.

"Call it a hunch." Hellboy looked Quasimodo in the eyes. "See you in a couple hours."

* * *

A cigar filled the van with smoke, bits of ash falling on the table.

Hellboy puffed away. He used a needle and syringe to remove the venom from the vial. Bullets and paintballs should be enough for this.

He emptied his pockets of the other trinkets and vials. A sword could prove useful, he took two and slung them over his shoulder. If the creature was immortal, he may not be able to kill it on his own. In that case, Quasimodo would have to place the final blow. Convincing him to leave the safety of his tower would be another matter entirely.

Hellboy breathed a heavy sigh as he looked around for a weapon the bell ringer may know how to use. Bows and guns would be useless. Churchmen didn't generally swing swords, either. The orange and grey Fiskers splitting maul would do nicely. He painted the axehead with the thickened black venom, then covered with an oiled chamois. He wrapped hockey tape around the handle, rock salt placed between the layers for extra grip.

When Hellboy emerged from the Hotel Dieu, the streets were full and the sun was lowering itself from the sky. Mechanical chimes rang out over the city signalling six o'clock.

* * *

Kate and Quasimodo read over the ancient texts. Kate smiled as the bellringer eagerly placed books and scrolls before her. As she finished reading, he would sweep them away to their proper places. Occasionally, he guided her through some of the more faded text. Among the documents was a series of maps describing the catacombs in detail. Kates note pile grew as the afternoon wore on.

Once Kate was certain she had the information she needed, she slowed her pace. She continued to read through the pages of _Grimoire of Honorius.  
_

Quasimodo placed a cup of black tea and a small plate of sponge cakes near Kate. She looked into the cup, then sipped.

"I've never seen an original copy of this one. It's beautiful in an odd manner."

"I don't have any sugar or lemon." He paused, then looked at the book. "That one wasn't mine. It was masters."

Kate gently closed the pages and turned to face Quasimodo. "It doesn't seem like something you would read." She slid back from the table and held the hot cup in both hands. "You've never said anything about him. What happened?" She looked into his eyes, regretting her question as his expression became more serious.

"He committed himself to the magnum opus. When he realized he could not build it, he searched the home of Nicholas Flamel." Quasimodo seated himself and took his own mug of tea. "He became obsessed. Not long afterward, it appeared here. It was in my water barrel for the longest time, I never thought to move it or care what it really was. I've had it since."

"You drank part of it. That explains a lot. When did you notice?"

"Not for years afterward. I was in there for weeks laying with her in my arms. I never died." A few tears welled up in his eyes, they didn't fall. "She melted away."

"I'm sorry." Kate placed her hand on Quasimodo's knee.

Quasimodo lowered his gaze to the tea, then his youthful hand. "At first, I thought it was fate playing another cruel trick on me. Steal away my choice to die, deny my will to end it." He sipped from his mug.

The two remained in silence for some time. The cakes remained uneaten.

Quasimodo stood to return the last few books to the shelf, lovingly guiding them into their proper places. He sighed as the chimes rang out above his head.

"You're right. They do sound hollow." Kate stood and walked to Quasimodo, gently placing her hand on his shoulder. "The offer I made still remains, the University would be glad to have you. You could leave this place, if only for a year or so. Try something new." She touched his hair lightly, causing him to look up and into her eyes. "You might even like it outside and decide to stay there."

He watched her lips and eyes intently. Kate smiled at him. "I belong here." He looked away from her and to the books, then to the calluses on his hand. "I did belong here."

* * *

Hellboy walked in noisily. Quasimodo only turned when Hellboys shadow fell into view.

"It must be a lich."

"We came to the same conclusion." Kate lifted her coffee from the table. Hellboy passed her a pistol, which she holstered, and a bag of specially prepared bullets.

Hellboy and Kate stood near the old wooden door. Quasimodo remained at the table, a few pages of notes before him. He seemed startled when he noticed both pairs of eyes staring at him, waiting for him to move.

"You need to come, too." Kate stated. She held her hand out toward him.

Quasimodo paled, then leaned toward the table. "Oh, no. I don't go out there. I couldn't leave this place."

"If it truly is immortal, we will need you." Kate held out the paintball gun.

"What is that?"

"You've used one of these before?" Hellboy offered the axe to the bell ringer.

"A few times... yes." Quasimodo stuttered.

"Don't cut yourself on the head, one small nick will kill you."

"This isn't a choice, is it." Quasimodo reluctantly took the axe.


	4. Paris Underground

The Underground

Dusk had fallen over the city. Hellboy held a cigar in his teeth, allowing the glowing ashes to fall on the stones before Notre Dame.

Inside the open door, Quasimodo adjusted the over-sized welding gloves around his wrists and fingers. He carefully secured the buckles, fitting them to his arms. He looked out into the square, where people walked about. Regular, normal people. They took pictures, they sipped coffee and they chatted among themselves. He gulped nervously. Grasping the handle of the splitting maul in his gloved hands, he stepped out of Notre Dame.

They walked through the square in silence.

Quasimodo hid under the comfort of a large hoodie. He walked with his shoulders rolled forward, his knees bent with every step. He held the splitting maul in his hands, the chamois wrapped tightly around the head. Kate gently placed her hand on his shoulder, then looked into his eyes.

"I know this is hard for you. Please allow yourself to relax. No one will even bother to look at either of us with him here." She motioned toward Hellboy.

"I heard that." Hellboy puffed a few smoke rings into the air, the butt of his cigar in hand. He dropped it on the cobbles, using his hoof to grind out the ashes. "We're here. Let's take care of stinky."

They stepped into the nearly-empty cafe. Some of the patrons stared as Hellboy walked past. Much to Quasimodos comfort, they merely observed the presence Kate and him as they passed.

As they descended into the catacombs, Quasimodo felt a deep thumping against his chest. Kate tapped his shoulder and offered him a set of goggles.

"Use these when it's too dark to see."

"What is this?" He played with the straps.

"They will allow you to see in the dark. They will also unmask illusions. Red doesn't need them, us mere humans do." After securing her own set to her forehead, she adjusted the other set to fit the bell ringer. She carefully passed his red hair around the straps. "I only wish we'd thought of bringing you a hearing aid."

"A what?" Quasimodo raised his right eyebrow.

Hellboy followed the bass through the darkened stone passages. Coloured light danced off the bones and carved archways. Kate and Quasimodo followed.

Soon, they entered into a large room where loud music blared through the darkness. Flickering lights, glow-sticks and dancing teenagers packed the room. They danced wildly. Kate held her arm before Quasimodo, pointing him towards the skull-lined walls. The young people danced, their movements appearing jerky under the pulsing lights. Near the wall, Kate and Quasimodo watched in silence.

Hellboy continued to walk forward, his hand on the Samaritan. The crowd parted as he passed, without directing so much as a glance toward him. Beyond the teens, out of the glow of neon bracelets and necklaces, it waited for one teen to step away. Hellboys yellow eyes fixed on a young man with green glow sticks on his head, who stepped toward the shadows. Before the young man turned the corner, the green glow vanished.

The figure was black robed, skeletal in frame. It screeched, causing the teenagers to place their hands to their ears. The music continued to thump through the ground. The teens resumed their dancing. Hellboy advanced, weapon in-hand. The creature fled deeper into the catacombs.

Kate pulled on Quasimodos arm, struggling to peel him from the wall. His eyes remained fixed on Hellboy as he drew the Samaritan and stepped into the darkness.

Kate tugged at his arm again. Quasimodo remained still. She grasped his hoodie and forced him to tear his gaze away from the dark passage. She pulled the chamois off of the axe.

"Quasimodo, move. We need you."

Startled, he jumped slightly. He then nodded and followed.

The passage was narrow, the floor damp. He lowered the goggles, shifting the lenses so that only his right eye was covered. The unused lens sat near his right ear. Suddenly, the world was green.

Through the passages, he followed the red shape of Hellboy. A set of horns and a golden crown glowed orange from atop his head. Kate glowed orange and yellow, as did he.

Quasimodo lagged behind, his legs complaining with every step. He fell forward, tripping on dried bones. The splitting maul fell from his hands, rolling forward. Grasping through the bones, he could feel the handle. He struggled to his feet and continued to follow Kate through the tunnel.

Abruptly, the passage ended into a large hall. Quasimodo stopped beside Hellboy and Kate, who stood at the edge.

"Would you look at that. This was something else, centuries ago." Kate stared at the vaulted ceiling.

"This is the Court of Miracles." Quasimodo remarked. "Part of it. The rest, what was above ground, was destroyed ages ago."

Rotten fabric hung lifelessly from the walls, still in the stale underground air. Old Roma caravans, now rotted frames, lay about. Among the 15th century relics lay bones, hundreds of bones. Garments, dating from the newest fashions to those of the Victorian era, lay strewn throughout the piles.

"Only a lich cleans someone this thoroughly." Hellboy stepped through the skeletons, snapping them as he walked through the Court. Kate followed.

"Would you look at that. Not a button has been touched on any of these." Kate stepped forward, finding herself staring at the elaborate jewellery and valuables that lay strewn about the bodies. "Quasimodo. You need to stay close. Whatever is here isn't welcoming of strangers."

Kate turned her head to see Quasimodo struggling to gain footing on the uneven ground. She shouted his name. He was only a few feet away, yet did not respond. Over his head, among the aged beams, a blue glow crawled smoothly, almost spider-like. The crackle of dried bones echoed through the hall.

Hellboy grumbled. He sparked a handful of flares, tossing them throughout the Court. Dim orange light filled the large hall. Kate and Quasimodo removed their goggles as the light flashed.

"Quasimodo! Above you." Kate shouted. She rushed toward him.

Quasimodo looked up, both of his eyes widening at the Lich fell toward him. He held the handle of the maul over his head, using it to push the Lich off of him and to the ground.

"Oh no, you don't!" Hellboy rushed from behind Kate, throwing himself onto the lich. As he landed, the floor crumbled away, causing both to disappear beneath the discarded bones. Bones rolled into the hole.

"Son of a..."

Kate and Quasimodo peered into the hole. Well below, lay a dimly lit cavern. Sounds of shattering glass, crumbling rock and Hellboys cussing reached Kates ears. She looked to Quasimodo, who met her gaze as she looked toward him.

"There must be another way to get down there." Quasimodo looked through the Court. "We need to find a cold draft." He looked toward Kate, waiting for an answer.

"It sounds like Hellboy is doing rather well." Kate half-smiled.

"The tremble in the ground would suggest otherwise." Quasimodo stood. "We had best find that passage."


	5. The Lair

The Lair

Quasimodo held the axe in his hands. A bent glow-stick lay over the collar to his shirt, illuminating his unusual features. Kate held out her hands, feeling for drafts. Quasimodo pulled an incense stick from his pocket, lighting it with a wooden match. The smoke pulled upward, coiling into a thin ribbon. The smoke disappeared into the darkness above.

"What have you been doing all of this time? It's been five hundred..."

"It will be five hundred, thirty-three years in April."

Kate looked into his eyes. Both of his eyes sparkled by the light of the glow-stick. She continued to walk.

"Mostly reading books. Books have changed much. I've seen it with my own eyes."

"...and you have never left." Kate continued to pass her hands over the stones.

"Rarely. People are fickle. When the statues were broken, it was terrifying. When they came for my bells, I remained hidden as they were taken away. I watched them lower the bells from the tower, into the street. They left wine in place of the bells. I drank far too much." Quasimodo continued hold the incense near the stones, his hands passing over their dampness. "During the two great wars, I did leave. The rose windows were taken away and I remained with them. The artists did not know how to place them together properly. They were terrified when the priests had me show them."

"They would have been confused. They must have thought it a prank."

"Surely. Were it not for that novel, they would not have cared." Quasimodo ran his fingers over the limestone walls. "This one is warmer."

Kate took the incense and moved it close to the brick. The trail of smoke drifted away from the wall.

A nearby lever caused the door to open. As the bricks moved, the pungent odor of decaying flesh and blood filled the damp, stagnant air. The air grew warmer as they descended the spiral steps. The passage and stairs were narrow, carved directly from the surrounding limestone.

Kate and Quasimodo exited the steps into a large room. Kate began lighting road flares, tossing them onto the piles of rotten bones. Overhead, a vaulted ceiling crumbled. Bones and pieces of wood continued to fall downward, onto the pile of decaying bodies. Atop the heap of dead, Hellboy fought the Lich.

"What is he doing?" Quasimodo held the axe across his chest, his hands folded near his shoulders.

"Weakening it." Kate walked along the wall, closer to Hellboy, her weapon drawn. Balls of basilisk-venom laced tracking dye filled its canister. "Once Hellboy secures him, use the axe. Smash its head."

Quasimodo nodded. He remained near the wall, forcing himself to breathe the foul air. Before him, the Lich continued to strike Hellboy. With his stone hand, Hellboy grasped the Lich and hurled him across the room.

"Now!" Kate shouted.

Quasimodo watched the Lich as it neared the wall, its robes fluttering open as it flew. A sparkle of red caught his eye as it passed over his head. Quasimodo lifted the axe over his shoulder. He felt the chamois fall over his back. He stepped forward as the Lich bounced from the wall. As it hit the ground, he swung the axe into its head.

"Lord, forgive me."

A wet crunch echoed, causing Kate to turn her head. Hellboy stepped forward, his fists ready.

Quasimodo gasped as the Lich stood. Its bony arms grasped the axe, reaching toward his hands. The Lich rolled its neck, the fragments of bone rejoining into a perfect charred skull. Empty eye sockets faced him as the Lich moved closer. The teeth neared his face, ready to bite. Quasimodo backed away, his shoulders pressed to the wall.

With his right hand, Quasimodo strained to push the Lich away. He laced his fingers around its sternum, moving towards the collarbones. His fingers touched metal. Quasimodos eyes flashed as the Lich grasped him by the neck and began to squeeze.

Struggling to breathe, Quasimodo gritted his teeth. He twisted his palm around the metal, pulling it toward himself. He fought to hold his eyes open, to allow air into his burning lungs. He could feel the finger bones of the Lich digging into his flesh. With his remaining strength, he tensed the muscles around his neck. The Lich remained attached to him.

Hellbow lurched forward, throwing his weight into the Lich and tearing it off of Quasimodo. Kate ran toward Quasimodo, who collapsed into a heap against the wall. She shook his shoulder.

"Quasi. Get up." She moved his hair away from his closed eyes. "You can't die."

"Katie, he can't hear you." Hellboy smashed his right hand into the Lich. The bones crumbled away, then re-assembled. It rushed forward, toward Quasimodo. Hellboy stood in its way. "Little help over here."

Katie tossed her paintball gun to Hellboy. The Lich screamed as the venom covered its bones. It stumbled, yet continued to walk forward.

Kate looked to the bell-ringer. "Quasi doesn't look good."

"He hasn't looked good a day in his life." Hellboy dropped the empty gun.

"Red, I'm serious." Kate rubbed her hands on Quasimodos cheeks. She turned to see Hellboy holding the Lich by its ribcage. "Quasi, move."

Quasimodo coughed as he fell over, onto Kates lap. She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him up. Kate smiled as she watched Quasimodo draw a deep breath.

"Katie, any more ideas?" Kate turned to see the Lich raise bones from the floor, into a moving heap. The bones lifted Hellboy into the air, surrounding him.

Quasimodos eyes grew wide.

"I can destroy it." Quasimodos words were weak, nearly gasping. He placed his left hand to the wall and attempted to stand. He slid toward the bones.

"You can't even stand up." Kate turned to Hellboy.

"The axe." Quasimodo motioned toward the handle that lay a few inches out of his grasp.

Kate held out her arm instead, guiding him to his feet. Lifting the axe from the cluttered floor, she rested the axe over her left shoulder.

"We need to go, now." Kate held his left hand. They both looked to see Hellboy forcing his right hand into the mouth of the Lich. Both figures balanced upon a moving heap of human bones.

Quasimodo stumbled as Kate led him toward the limestone passage. As they neared the door, a wave of bones blocked their way. The Lich reached toward them with its skeletal fingers.

"Whatever you are planning to do, you'd best do it now." Hellboy crumbled the head of the Lich, only to watch it resume its normal shape, much like a damp kitchen sponge.

Kate looked to Quasimodo, who opened his right hand. A large gold and ruby necklace was wrapped around his palm.

"Where did you get that?" Kate studied the large ruby.

"Stand on this." He slipped the gold chain under the heel of her boot. She remained still as Quasimodo lifted the axe from her shoulder. Only when she saw Quasimodo raise the axe to his own shoulder did she turn to face him. His arms trembled as he struggled to lift the weight of the axe.

The blunt end of the axe shattered the ruby. Kate pulled her foot away.

"Aw, crap." Hellboy shouted, as the pile of bones collapsed from under him. He disappeared into the mound of shattered and rotten bones.

Leaning against the wall for support, Quasimodo smiled briefly. He balanced his hands on the handle of the axe. He felt Kates arms wrap around him.

Quasimodo watched as the Lich melted into a puddle of black slime. Only a tattered cloak remained. He looked to his own youthful hands and frowned.

"Those not born into immortality will surely go mad." His voice trembled.


	6. A Relic

A Relic

Quasimodo looked to what remained of the gold necklace. Kate picked it up, shaking the shards of ruby onto the soiled stones.

"A memento of your first mission with the BPRD." She offered him the damaged necklace. "BPRD rule is that whoever destroys the monster keeps the relic." Quasimodo watched the damaged necklace swing from her hand.

"The monster." He lifted the axe, falling against the wall. He looked to Kate. "That could have been me. If I were to become that, a monster." He paused, his eyes closing. He smiled as Kate brushed her hand against his neck, touching his left ear.

"Quasi, you're bleeding." His eyes remained closed.

Rattling bones fell from the giant heap, Hellboy emerged, his jacket torn. Parts of it hung in tatters, other parts were missing. He lifted a flare and walked toward Kate, who could barely support Quasimodo in her arms.

"What happened to his neck?" He held the light closer, revealing trails of blood that soiled his skin and shirt. "He's not looking very lively."

Hellboy grasped Quasimodo by his arms and swung him over his shoulder. The bell ringer groaned in complaint, remaining still and otherwise silent.

Kate found the Samaritan as they passed through the Court of Miracles. The rave had ended, the coffee shop was deserted. Paris had gone to sleep. Hellboy and Dr. Corrigan walked before Notre Dame, streetlamps lighting their way. Once at the BPRD base, did Hellboy slide Quasimodo from his shoulder. Kate laid him out onto a cot.

* * *

"You really shouldn't have that in here." Kate grumbled. She sat next to Quasimodo, removing fragments of bone from his hair. He remained bloodied and still, his eyes opening for only seconds at a time.

"You're the only one complaining" Hellboy puffed his cigar, blowing rings into the air. Kate shook her head.

"This is a medical clinic." Nancy, a BPRD medic, stepped in with a tray. "Put it out, or get out."

"Fine." Hellboy crumbled the burning end of the cigar with his fingers.

"He shouldn't have been injured." Kate pulled a piece of decayed flesh from Quasimodos hair. "This one is rather large. What do you suppose..." She held it near the surgical light, noting the green undertones of the decayed flesh.

"Immortals are not easily wounded." Hellboy unceremoniously tore the collar of Quasimodos shirt away, revealing three gashes on either side of his neck. "Those are some deep ones." Hellboy pulled the edge of the wound, gaping it open. "You can see his collar-bone. Kate, look at this."

"Move." The medic pushed Hellboy away. She began to clean the wounds.

"What? It's not like he can hear me." Hellboy poured himself a coffee.

Quasimodos eyes fluttered open, blinking at the bright light. Kate leaned forward, moving the light away.

"Finally. You're awake."

"Where am I?" Quasimodos blinked at the light. He lifted his right hand to his neck, only to have Nancy hold his wrist. "What happened?"

"You're at our base and about to have a few stitches." Kate adjusted the light, fixing the beam onto his neck. Hellboy laughed from the corner. He held up his coffee as Quasimodo looked to him.

"Good job on the Lich. Next time, try not to get your ugly ass killed."

"Never mind him." Nancy cleaned Quasimodos neck. "You're rather cute, actually." She tapped him on the chin. "Face the wall and hold still."

He closed his eyes as he felt the first pull on his skin. He opened them to see Hellboy near him.

"It always feels that way." Hellboy reached out his hand, offering a cookie. "Snack?"

"No thanks." Quasimodo stated flatly. He closed his eyes, counting each pass of the needle and draw of the suture through his skin. Shallow breaths escaped him with the tying of each knot.

He felt Nancys warm hand on his neck, then an uncomfortable pull on his skin, almost like a sheet of paste.

The light moved. He watched as Nancy stepped to his right side. She tapped his chin again.

"Look that way." He sighed deeply as Hellboy walked around the cot. He watched Kate scowl at him and send him away.

"Fine. I'll clean up &amp; go for food." Hellboy downed his remaining coffee and left the room. "I'll be back in a couple hours."

"Is he serious?" Quasimodo asked Kate. "He offered me a cookie. A cookie. After calling me ugly."

"That's his way of coping. Don't take it personal."

Nancy continued to suture his wounds.

"How do you work with him?" Quasimodo touched the plastic bandage that covered his stitches.

"It's his way of showing concern. You'll have to trust me on that." Kate and Nancy helped him to sit on the cot. "You're absolutely filthy. Are you able to walk?"

"I think so."

* * *

Quasimodo stepped out of the steamy room, wearing poorly-fitted BPRD clothing. His hair lay in all directions, having been roughly towel dried.

"Why have I never have a hot shower before?" He tugged the collar of the shirt, which had been cut to fit him.

"How do you feel?"

"Warm." Quasimodo limped forward. The towel lay draped over his shoulders, over the hump on his back. Kate thrust a mug of tea into his hand.

"Hellboy is right, you know. You almost died." Quasimodo sat at the table, across from Kate. "Your wounds were deep. That should not have been possible."

Quasimodo nodded, then looked toward the mug in his hands. He swirled his tea, watching the milk disperse. "What if I am tired? I've had more years than anyone ever should. Every reason I have to exist has vanished. I have no role in Notre Dame, my bells have been stolen away. I have no purpose."

"He won't do it, and you know it."

"That ruby, the phylactery, it shattered like glass. The stone, it is harder than the bells. It will not burn, it will not crumble - I've tried both. Molten lead will not destroy it. Hellboy could easily crush it in his hand. I would melt away and be gone in an instant."

"You wouldn't, actually." Kate replied. "You're not immortal. Were the stone destroyed, you would age and die over years. It's slowed your aging, nothing more."

"Still, he could destroy it." Quasimodo wrapped his hands around the mug. Kate placed the necklace in the middle of the table.

"This should come to the BPRD headquarters for study." Kate pushed it across the table, pressing it against Quasimodos hand. "You should bring it."

"You mean, leave Paris?"

"Exactly that. If only for a year or so. Come to the BPRD, visit the University. Teach others what you know." Kate grasped his hand. "Look for a new purpose."

The door swung open, Hellboy walked in with a bakery box. Quasimodo watched as Hellboy balanced a paper coffee cup in the right hand of doom, gently sipping from it. He turned his yellow eyes to the bell-ringer. A hint of a smile appeared on Hellboys face. He opened the lid, sliding the box onto the table.

"Eat up." Quasimodo eyed the muffins and pastries. He removed a croissant.

"I know what you were thinking. Don't go there, because you know I won't do it."

"Would you ever consider it? If I were to become that?"

"One bite out of a living creature," he bit into the pastry, "I promise you won't feel a thing."


	7. Home

Home

Quasimodo stood in his quarters, within the tower of Notre Dame. His neck remained a mosaic of different colours, from where the Lich had torn into him. Blue stitches poked through his bruised skin. He walked about the series of rooms, gathering books, clothes and a few mementos. With care, he packed his things into an aged wooden trunk. He stood for a moment, glancing at the few items, arranging them so they would not shift. He closed the lid and shoved the trunk toward Hellboy. Both disappeared down the ladder.

Kate watched as Quasimodo passed through the little rooms once more. He walked out last, securing the door with a shiny metal lock. He stood at the top of the ladder, leaning against the old door. Kate followed his eyes upward, to the mechanical bells and ancient beams.

"This place, it's my world." He looked to the beams and wooden supports. "Paris doesn't even know I exist. It will never even know I'm gone."

"It's one year, Quasimodo." Kate offered her hand. "Experience something new. Should you wish, I will personally bring you home, to Notre Dame."

"I can't believe that I'm doing this." Quasimodo climbed down the ladder, his eyes remaining high into the tower. "Promise me that if I do die... I mean, if anything should happen..." He passed his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. His fingers came rest on his chin and he sighed. Kate followed his gaze upward, toward the dusty beams. "...I need to rest here."

"You'll be fine, Quasimodo. You'll not be going on field missions."

Together, they walked from Notre Dame. The streets of Paris were alive with the vibrant colours of sunset. People filled the streets, consumed in their activities. Skateboarders rolled about between the gardens in the square. Other tourists stood, snapping photographs of Notre Dame. Hellboy garnered some looks, Quasimodo and Kate ignored. Bells chimed out over the city, the sound echoing from the towers of Notre Dame. Quasimodo turned to face Notre Dame one last time. He turned toward Hellboy and Kate and nodded.

"I'm ready. I can do this."

Within moments they were in the BPRD van, driving out of Paris. Quasimodos face lay near the window, drinking in the landscape. The van pulled up to a gate, surrounded by barbed wire. A single black and white sign bearing the words "Base aérienne 117" was riveted to the gate. The van drove onto a narrow airstrip.

The driver opened the door near a small cargo plane. Hellboy walked on, followed by carts of equipment. Quasimodo remained behind, his eyes fixed on the wings of the plane.

"Quasi, what's wrong?"

"We will ride to your home in that?" He paused. "They fly over Paris all of the time. I never thought I would ever..."

"Ride in one? It's OK." Kate smiled at him. "Now is not the time to say you're scared of heights."

Quasimodo swallowed, then stepped into the plane. He followed Hellboy and Kate in buckling himself in. Hellboy and Kate donned headphones, offering him a set. He set them onto his lap.

Hellboy sat beside him, drinking beer from a clear glass bottle.

"Make yourself comfortable. It's a long ride to Iceland." Hellboy offered a pack of gum. "Chew on this or your ears will pop."

"Iceland?" Quasimodo raised his eyebrow. "No thanks, I have trouble with gum."

"Iceland for re-fuelling, two hours in Gander to pick up a few documents and finally Connecticut." Hellboy offered his cooler. Quasimodo drew out a bottle of beer and popped the cap with his callused thumb.

"I just know you will enjoy your stay. There are students who would love to learn everything you know about bells." Kate pulled a book from her satchel and passed it to Quasimodo. "Not just bells, either. Many wish to learn the old ways, craving the knowledge you hold. Stained glass, sculpture, alchemy, literature, medieval medicine... "

"I do know many things about bells." Quasimodo smiled. He thumbed through lists of proposed studies and courses, resting his thumb on a photograph of a cathedral window. "What would people, would students, say? About..." Quasimodo looked to his shoes, then to his hand. He motioned to his face. "...about this?"

"About as much as they say when Abraham instructs them. My students desire to learn and will be professional."

"You are both nerds." Hellboy continued to drink.

The plane began to tremble as the engines started. Quasimodo jumped in his seat at the sudden onslaught of noise. He hurridly fit the headphones over his ears.

* * *

"The BPRD library is massive. I'm certain you will be spending many hours enjoying what it has to offer. Abraham is eager to meet you, as is Johan." The elevator carried them higher. "They should be back from Chile later this week. There were more vampires in the cult than either of them expected."

Quasimodo looked to Kate. "You said this visit is strictly academic."

"No field missions, I promise." Kate stepped out of the elevator.

Dr. Corrigan and Quasimodo stood in the hallway, on the top floor of the BPRD headquarters. She placed a pair of keys into his hand. A small bell dangled from the keys, attached with a broad green ribbon.

"These are your quarters and you may come and go at your leisure. Everything should be to your liking." Kate smiled. "We were also able to find something special for you."

Quasimodo unlocked the door. Sunlight filled the room, causing him to shade his eyes. He stepped inside, toward the large windows that overlooked a treed valley. He paused midway across the room, looking up. Emmanuel hung, silenced, overhead. Quasimodo froze, his eyes fixed inside the bell.

"Where did you find him?" Quasimodo circled under the bell, noting the clapper had been padded with rubber.

"England." Kate looked at the bell. "Only Emmanuel remained. The others are gone, melted. I'm sorry."

Kate directed him to his trunk. Quasimodo walked slowly, his feet dragging the laminate floor. Kate walked him to the kitchen, opening the cupboards for him. She prepared the coffee maker.

"The cupboards are stocked with the basics. If anything is missing, write a note to housekeeping and it will be addressed." They stood in the kitchen. "There will be a meeting at 06:00 tomorrow, regarding the Lich and it's destruction. The report is written and the file will close quickly. You will need to bring the necklace." Kate looked at Quasimodo, who appeared drowsy. "I will leave you to settle in. You have about 20 hours. Try to get some rest."

"Thank-you." Quasimodo smiled. Kate smiled back, then left.

Quasimodo explored his new space. The space was larger and much less cluttered than Notre Dame.

The bedroom was darker and colder, with a large soft bed in the centre of the room. He pressed the foam with his fist, sinking the blankets to his wrist. He passed his hand over the blankets, they were smooth and free of patches and holes.

He wandered about, noting that every room was bare of all but the essentials. The walls lacked art, as well as mirrors. Everything was new and unused. Bars of soap remained in boxes, stacked next to sealed bottles of shampoo and fresh towels. Pencils lay neatly in a desk drawer, un-sharpened. The notebooks and drawing pads were in their original plastic wrappers.

Quasimodo poured himself a mug of coffee and sat next to the trunk. He lifted out quills, papers and journals, loading them into the desk and onto the shelves. He unpacked his few clothes. After struggling to unwrap the hangers, he realized his shirts slid off them with the slightest tilt. Instead, he tossed his clothes into a drawer.

He walked to the large window, looking at the landscape. Trees lay before him, as far as he could see. What appeared to be trails wove through the forest. He stared into the sky, toward the clouds. The occasional bird flew above the building, over the windows. He could feel the quiet, the lack of a low rumble beneath his feet. There was no subway, no sirens. It was like it had been long ago, when all was silent all the time, save the bells.

Quasimodo felt the row of windows, locating one that could be opened. He pushed the desk toward the window. He tore the plastic wrappers, opening a new notebook and a pouch of pens. With care, he laid out his coffee, notebook and a pen onto the desk. He opened the window, allowing a blast of cool air into the apartment. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, taking in the scent of trees and clean air. It had been centuries since he'd breathed air this fresh. He raised his pen to the blank page.

_"BPRD, Day 1..."_


End file.
